


Like Father, Like Son (Part 1)

by AgataVarano



Series: Scar [15]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abusive Parents, F/M, Found Family, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lara adopting teens cuz Tony has had a terrible influence on her, Magic, okay but Lara is high-key a baby not gonna lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28437114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgataVarano/pseuds/AgataVarano
Summary: It looks like the Stark Syndrome is contagious, especially among innocent babies in the shape of feared terrorists.
Relationships: Nick Fury & Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character & Original Male Character, Stephen Strange/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Scar [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826437





	Like Father, Like Son (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> • English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes.  
> • You can find this and more fics on my Tumblr @/let-me-write-my-life and my Instagram @/agata_varano.

_ My name is revenge and I'm here to save my name. - Shinedown (My Name) _

A blond guy throws Lara a look as she pummers the punching bag hard enough to almost break it, but he soon decides to move past her upon Jonathan's deadly glare. Lara smirks at him before kicking the bag. "Stay down, Fido."

Jonathan cocks an eyebrow, offended, and stops the punching bag from hitting his face. "Shut up and don't destroy your brand new muscle," he comments sarcastically and she scoffs.

She walks past him and reaches for her bag. "May I go to the locker room or you'd rather give someone else a dirty look before?"

He grins and follows her into the corridor. "If you wanted to kick his ass later on, you just had to ask." She giggles and swats his arm away playfully. "Also, it's either me or Dumbledore."

She sighs as she reaches for the door of the locker room. "I need no bodyguard, thank you very much."

He gasps, something he does way too often just for the sake of drama. "I'm your brother. It's my God-given right to-"

"Annoy me," she interrupts him before closing the door behind her.

The locker room is almost empty, the only women around being instructors or very loyal customers. Lara abandons her bag on a lonely bench in the corner of the room, a spot that allows her to see everyone and everything. She removes the bandages around her hands and takes a sip of water. She has barely the time to swallow that her phone is ringing. The screen shows Elize's contact information and Lara is fast to answer, sitting down before her still recovering leg starts aching. "Hey. Need anything?"

"Tony called me. He said he wanted to talk to you but you weren't answering your phone." The woman leans with her side against the windowsill, smiling when her gaze meets a black motorcycle parking by the house.

Lara secures her phone between her face and shoulder and proceeds to change from her training gear into her casual clothes. "He doesn't seem to have tried too much, since I've been training for what? An hour?"

Elize grins. "Actually," she points out, "you and Jon have been gone for three hours at least."

She sighs. "Fair enough, I'll call him back."

"Great. Now I have to go. Oh and tell your brother that I will not be home tonight," she replies with a wide smile as she walks downstairs.

Lara smirks. "Okay, whatever. But keep in mind that tomorrow I want absolutely no detailed description of whatever you've done." She lets her tank top fall in the bag, adding it to the pile of dirty laundry. "Or who."

The Avengers Headquarters are even more crowded than usual, probably owing to some mission that has just been completed. As she walks down the main hallway, Lara inspects all the agents around her. Sam waves his hand when he walks past her and she smiles, until her attention is drawn by a loud crash coming from the nearby room. Lara looks inside through the open door and widens her eyes at the sight of a teenager on the floor. He seems even younger than Parker and looks out of place as he suddenly sits up upon seeing Lara. He moves a hand through his pale hair and looks down ashamed, failing to hide the trail of blood coming out of his nose.

Something snaps inside of Lara and she crouches before him, wrapping a hand around his face and forcing him to look at her. "Are you okay?" she asks as she wipes away the blood from his face. She's almost surprised by how warm his skin is.

He nods, but immediately moves his gaze away from her face and back on the floor. In that moment Tony walks in accompanied by Nick Fury. "I see you've already met our new kid," the inventor says as she helps the teen up.

"Your _ what _ ?"

Nick takes a step forward. "We found him in an Agency X base. We called you here to talk about his situation."

The boy abruptly looks up, a mix of fear and anxiety written on his pale face. He throws a glance at Nick, then Lara, then Tony and Lara again. She furrows her brows. "I'm not sure I understand what I have to do with him."

Nick gestures to her to come closer and the two retreat to a corner. "He was a part of a project by Agency X. We really don't know what they did to him as he hasn't said a single word yet. We only know he was the only one to survive whatever experiments they were working on and that he is supposed to have some sort of powers."

She arches a brow. "And?"

"And you could train him a little," he concludes, straightening up. "I mean, your powers may even be similar, don't you think?"

Lara scoffs. "Like I know what I do when I use my powers!" She takes a step back. "I can't even train myself properly, how am I supposed to train someone else?"

Nick crosses his arms. "Well, you better figure that out because from tomorrow on that kid's training is your responsibility." He walks past her and gestures Tony to follow him, then turns back to her. "I'll go get you all the information you may need, wait here with the kid," he says before leaving.

Lara sighs. She crosses her arms tightly on her chest and moves closer to the teen. "Looks like I'm your trainer now," she says.

He keeps his gaze on the floor. "Yes, miss."

_ "At least he is polite." _ She looks around the room and at the utter chaos around her, almost as if there had been a storm inside the place. "May I know what happened here? Just out of pure curiosity," she asks with a smirk, eyes still on him. He swallows heavily but doesn't answer.  _ "Oh sh*t." _ She places a hand on his shoulder, which makes him turn his head slightly to the side. His eyes then set on her face, a look of extreme surprise on his face. "Listen, I have done way worse than messing up a room, so as long as you don't kill anyone in front of me we are fine. What happened?"

He stammers for a couple seconds, but finally manages to answer. "I- I don't know. I just… The lights were turned off so… I touched the switch and this happened."

She nods. "Are you okay?"

He looks even more surprised. "Uhm, yes miss."

"Good." She smiles and turns to the door. Tony hands him a folder and she brows through the pages, then she turns back to the teen. "Well, see you tomorrow then. Is nine o'clock fine?" He nods promptly and she smiles again. "Great, bye."

Back at the Sanctum, she abandons her bag in the corner of the library. She then collapses face first onto the couch, letting out a groan. Stephen stifles a laugh and gets up from his chair. "Long day?"

She looks up and gives him a dirty look. "Have you guys finally defeated Sauron?"

He rolls his eyes and sits down on the small portion of the couch not occupied by her. "Not without you, Frodo."

She gets up on her elbows and arches a brow. "Kinda called for it, right?" she groans loudly and manages to sit more or less properly, her legs on Stephen's lap. "I need your help."

He leans back, arms crossed and hands covered in his yellow gloves. Today his hands have really decided to start acting up. "What for?"

"How do I train someone who is one hundred percent scared of me, barely talks to me and that I know nothing about?"

Stephen laughs sarcastically. "Anything else?"

"Oh and an indefinite amount of traumas, for what I know up to now."

He sighs. "Well, you should probably start with talking with him. Don't go too deep and tell him something about yourself too." The cloak joins them and starts pushing him playfully against Lara. He lets out a groan as the sentient relic wraps around his arm.

She muffles a giggle with the back of her hand before proceeding to free him from his sentient restraint. "Anything else? Such as how not to get a falling skyscraper on my back?" She smirks at him, her hands wrapped in thick red fabric.

He rolls his eyes. "Abandon them in the first trashcan you see before getting emotionally attached and keep pieces of clothing out of your private life."

As the cloak abandons its mission of interfering with Stephen's displays of affection, Lara huffs. "He's too old for that," she chirps. "Also, you're welcome."

He sighs loudly. "Thank you."

"Much better." She gently grabs his jaw and places a quick kiss to his cheek. "Thank you too for your help," she concludes as she gets up, her fingers hurrying to move a lock of hair behind her ear.

She reaches for her bag and walks upstairs. Today she feels light, free, happy and she isn't even sure if it's because of her new task or her leg finally recovering. Before getting into the shower, she examines her wound, which seems to improve by the day. Now that she thinks about it, she hasn't asked anyone about Alex yet. She doesn't know whether he is in jail or not, when his trial will be or anything like that, but as hot water runs down her body she is sure she doesn't care. No, she couldn't care less. He will pay and that's it, she doesn't want to waste her time worrying about him. Instead she should start thinking about the teen she has met not even three hours before. She knows nothing about him and, judging by Fury's words, reading S.H.I.E.L.D. files won't be much help.

As she pours shampoo on her open palm, she starts wondering about what happened to him, about what in hell would make someone so scared of everyone and everything. Brad had once told her she was scary, but it was a joke and she was doing it on purpose. She had tried to be as kind as possible to him, but apparently her attitude didn't matter to him. Or maybe he already knows her, maybe someone from Agency X told him about her and all the horrible things she has done. But this wouldn't explain his behaviour being the same with Tony and Fury too. Perhaps because they are part of S.H.I.E.L.D?

When she comes back from her mind castle, she realizes she has been standing in the shower for way too much time. Quickly drying her body and putting on the first clothes available, she plops on her bed with a loud groan. She outstretches her arm and a second later the teen's folder is in her hand. Careful not to ruin the paper with the small drops of water falling down her hair locks, she starts reading.  _ Agent 570. Born 18th July 2010. Project 82.  _

Lara rapidly brows through the pages, most of which are detailed pictures of the place he was found in: a big room with greenish walls and small windows. The almost total absence of light had been solved by hanging a couple of LEDs from the ceiling. Tables, chairs and other iron pieces of furniture were lying on the floor among the garbage, some mysterious prints left on the floor suggested a body had been there for a while. The following report confirmed, in fact, her hypothesis: the teen, whose real name had been written nowhere, had been found by a group of agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. who had stormed the place. Unfortunately the entire base was empty, probably evacuated. The only exception was the laboratory in the basement, where the poor boy was standing surrounded by corpses of scientists and other teens his age, the latter brutally slaughtered and the former electrocuted. The date coincided with his fifteenth birthday. How unfortunate.

_ The light of the Sun crept into the room through the small window just under the ceiling. The tiny opening was the only thing still allowing him to see the world outside his room. As he watched dark boots moving outside the base in the parking lot through the bars, he pondered how much his life had improved after his father's death. Despite all his problems, despite his violence and addictions, at least he allowed him to leave his room. Sometimes. The clicking sound of the lock opening made him turn abruptly just before a guard grabbed his arm and dragged him out of his room. _

Lara tries her best to smile as brightly as possible when the teen enters the training facility. "Hey. Slept well?" she asks approaching him, trying not to think about Tony's comments on her being barely taller than a fifteen-year-old.

He nods, but upon seeing her tilting her head, manages to burp out a couple words. "Yes miss, thank you." He looks her in the eye. "You?"

"Not bad, thanks." She plops down on a weight bench, patting the spot beside her. "I wanted to talk with you a little before we started, do you mind?"

He shakes his head and sits down, looking down.  _ "This is gonna be hard as hell," _ she thinks, biting her lip. "Okay, first of all: what are your abilities?" He furrows his brows, throwing her a confused glance with the corner of his eye, and she corrects the shot. "Do you have any kind of inhuman powers? Enhanced abilities? Former training? Anything on this line?"

He looks back down. "I- I am supposed to..." She leans forward, placing her forearms on her knees. "Electricity. I can- I  _ should _ control electricity."

She nods, leaning back against the wall. "Good. I can work with that. And," she continues, "how often have you used your powers before?"

He gulps. "Once."

She nods and examines his behaviour. He may even look younger than he already is, all curved on his knees as to protect his vital organs from a possible attack. "Last but not least," she says with a smile. "I should have probably asked you this yesterday, but I'm not good at this kind of stuff. What's your name?"

The teen looks at her and back at the floor, extraordinarily surprised by such a banal question. She leans forward and lowers her voice a little, putting so much effort into soothing it. "I would hate to have to call you with a number, you know…"

He swallows heavily. "I'm Kevin."

She nods. "Lara," she replies with a smile.

_ Everything happened fast. They handcuffed him and brought him into a laboratory. He tried to understand where he was, but all he saw were bodies. Bodies of teenagers like him. Dead bodies. Slaughtered bodies. What the hell was going on? _

"Okay, all you have to do is hit that target." Lara crosses her arms on her chest and tilts her head slightly to the side, examining Kevin's scared expression and his anxious gulp. "It doesn't necessarily have to be a powerful attack, just focus on accuracy. Got it?"

Her confidence in his ability not to tear the whole place down fails to reassure Kevin as he ponders the distance between him and the red target. No more than twenty feet, no wind, no one else in the room but him and her. He lets out a breath and turns to her, waiting for a sign to start.

"Whenever you're ready," she says with a slight movement of her head to the side.

He nods and looks forward, appealing to all his self-control. Energy is flowing in his veins, he can feel it, he just has to order it to hit the target. It's easy.

_ A thick needle pierced his skin. He screamed, a grey liquid flooding inside his veins and outstretched an arm out of instinct. Next thing he knew countless scientists, way more than he had seen at first, were pushed in all directions, their skin burnt and their eyes turned backwards. The smell of burnt meat was probably the strongest memory he had of that day, as well as the unbearable guilt. He clenched his fists, eyes wide open. What had he done… _

As soon as he outstretches his arm a power discharge able to set a forest on fire leaves his palm, not only making a hole in the wall just a couple feet away from the target, but pushing him back on the floor too. He blinks his eyes as Lara rushes to his side and he brings a hand to his face, touching the trail of blood running down the side of his head. She has not even touched him that he's already sat up, staring at the wall repairing itself before his very eyes. He lets out a breath and buries his face in his hands.

Lara is about to touch his shoulder in an attempt to calm him, but a small sparkle of energy tingles her finger. "It's… not bad for a first attempt," she comments with what is probably meant to be a mouth-closed smile.

He pins his arms on his knees, a hand moving through his hair. "It's not my first attempt."

As Lara adjusts herself in a kneeling position, her magic repairs the light cables, severely damaged by the unnatural discharge. "You're talking to someone whose first attempt at magic included almost burning alive a cat," she smirks, but her joke fails to make Kevin feel better.

He laughs ironically. "You are not like me. You killed Thanos, you saved the Avengers, you fought more members of Agency X than I have ever met in my life. You do not compare."

"You're missing the part when I completely mess up everything, almost kill everyone and do nothing but training for years just to be able not to hurt others." Her expression turns serious as her gaze sets on Kevin. "You and I are more similar than I would like to admit."

"Because you're ashamed to be like a teen who can't even use his powers?" he teases, abruptly getting up and clenching his fists.

She sighs and slowly stands up, arms crossed. " _ Because  _ I'd prefer not to think about the fact that there are still people who have suffered like me, if not more." 

She takes a tentative step forward, but he jumps back, suddenly upset. "How are you so sure I've suffered? You know nothing about me!"

"I see you, how you behave, how you talk, and trust me when I say I was just like you, hiding my emotions in a stupid effort to look stronger or cooler or whatever, but it led me nowhere. I want something better for you."

"No you don't, no one here does. You all just want me for my powers, you want to use me," he whines as he starts to tear up, a knot forming in his throat.

She swallows heavily. "I- Is that what they told you?"

He nods and collapses on the closest bench, crossing his arms on his knees and leaning forward as he cries. She kneels in front of him, pondering what to do. After a moment of hesitation, she decides to sit beside him and caress his back. "I'm not here to hurt you, no one is. I just want to help you, I promise." He shakes his head as his breath hitches and his rave of emotions intensifies. She bites her bottom lip and she wonders if Stephen ever felt so powerless whenever he saw her tearing up. "I can go if you want me to," she whispers.

Upon hearing no answer, she gets up and, after throwing him a last worried look, she leaves the room. But not before having cured his wound from afar.

The water running down the tap is ice cold, almost as much as the breeze coming through the open window, but after all such a tiny bathroom cools down pretty quickly. As he rinses his face, Kevin thinks about everything that has happened the day before. The cut on his forehead has almost completely disappeared, but he tries not to be grateful for it.  _ "She's an enemy, do not forget it." _ But it's hard to remember it when your enemies mend your wounds and your friends cut them back open. This unforgivable weakness may be the main reason why his father never trusted him with becoming an agent. Not that he had ever expressed some sort of distrust in his abilities. Well, he had never expressed much at all.

After drying his face, he runs out of the room towards the training facility. His plan is simple: training as much as humanly possible until he's strong enough to escape and go back where he came from. He has wondered more than once why he should do it, why he should go back to a place he has always despised with all his heart and soul, a place where he was treated like a lab rat or so, and he wonders what his mother would have done. That poor woman he never got to see much seemed to have been, according to what his father had told him, a smart and brilliant woman, someone he could have always gone to for a piece of advice. And now he could really use one.

The door of the training room cracks weakly as he opens it and he sticks his head inside, glad to see nothing but training tools. He walks in, but promptly freezes in place when his eyes catch the sight of a woman doing pull-ups in a side of the room, her hands wrapped around a metal bar and her whole body a good five feet above the floor. As soon as she hears his footsteps, she sets her blue eyes on him and he could bet his soul she's scanning his whole being. After a moment, she goes back to her training and Kevin stands there, staring at her muscles tensing and relaxing under her purple tank top.

He lets out a breath and walks to the punching bag. He clenches his fists and hits it with all his strength, exhaling a breath. One punch after the other, he tries to keep up with the rhythm of her sit-ups. He tries, he really does, to imagine her face on that punching bag, to imagine her livid body instead of that brownish material, blood trailing down her face and marks all over her skin, but that vision soon leaves place to that of someone else, a tall man with broad shoulders and no hair on his head.

One punch after the other, he pours his anger into those repetitive movements as a feeling of guilt takes over him because  _ dang it _ , that's not the person he should hate. The person he is supposed to despise is currently placing her feet on the wall to better land on the floor. The person he is supposed to despise is walking over to him and throwing him an inspecting look.

"Hey," she greets him coldly. Kevin stops, he doesn't even know why. He should just turn to her and punch her on the jaw. "You're gonna ruin your hands by punching like that," she says casually, not even looking him in the eye.

He nods. "Why do you even care?" Her gaze moves to the floor and she shrugs, visibly hurt. Kevin doesn't know what happens to him, he just feels stupid,  _ really _ stupid. He sighs and stops the punching bag with a hand. "I mean… how am I supposed to do it?"

She outstretches an arm and clenches her fist, rotating it slowly to show him. He nods and, after following her example, begins punching the bag again.  _ “Go on, train me. It’ll only make it easier for me to kill you,” _ he thinks, but a part of him is sure he could never do it and not only because of her powers. 

Lara examines his movements for a moment, then nods. “Better,” she mumbles.

She turns around and is about to leave, when Kevin stops again and calls her. “Miss?” He puts all his energy in keeping his voice from trembling. Her eyes set on his face and she locks her arms on her chest. He swallows heavily and fails to keep his gaze on her eyes, a senseless guilt taking over him. “I- Sorry… for yesterday.”

She tilts her head slightly to the side as her lips turn upwards. “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” 

He nods and something crosses his mind, an idea he should be ashamed to even consider. Unfortunately he, just like his father, isn’t really one for thinking things through. “I was wondering if… you know… you still wanted to train me.” Upon her raising her eyebrow, his cheeks are lit on fire. “You don’t have to, I mean-”

She waits for a moment, pondering the situation. Finally, she decides she can still try and make it work. “Oh no, I will. I am not having another discussion with Stark about why I should spend more time with humans rather than sentient cloaks.”

Kevin widens his eyes. “What?”

She smiles. “Long story.”


End file.
